


Frozen In This Place

by hobbleit



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3896875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbleit/pseuds/hobbleit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The purity of the snow had been tainted by red.  Blood had seeped through the white forever defiling the snow it flowed over.  There was too much of it and in the centre was a young man, badly beaten and freezing in the cold.  His broken body lying still almost as if he was dead but if one looked closely he was still breathing shallowly as he was abandoned by his attackers and they skulked off into the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> From the bbcmusketeers kink meme: d'Artagnan has the absolute hell beaten out of him.
> 
> The rating and the warnings might change, I don't know if I can actually write extreme violence but we shall see.
> 
> The title is from Dusk (Dark is Descending) by Anathema.

The snow had been falling heavily all day, laying thick and fast on the streets of Paris; covering the filth and dirt with a coating of white.  It almost made the streets look beautiful with its purity.  Almost.

The purity of the snow had been tainted by red.  Blood had seeped through the white forever defiling the snow it flowed over.  There was too much of it and in the centre was a young man, badly beaten and freezing in the cold.  His broken body lying still almost as if he was dead but if one looked closely he was still breathing shallowly as he was abandoned by his attackers and they skulked off into the night.

What had happened?  The night had started out pleasantly enough despite the weather, he had been to the tavern with his brothers but had left early, feeling exhausted from the challenges of the day.  He had quickly noticed that he was being followed and had attempted to confuse his stalkers by heading down a nearby alley.  It hadn’t worked.

He had been expecting the first blow and blocked it.  He put up a good fight, he was a strong fighter after all, but there were too many of them and they quickly overpowered him.  He felt himself hit the floor as he heard accusations from his attackers over the incorrect assumption that he had tried to seduce one of the men’s wife.  He had tried to defend himself over these accusations but the men could not be pacified.  The beating continued.

He had no idea how long it went on for but eventually the blows ceased and he was left alone in the snow.  In his half-conscious state he was vaguely aware of his injuries.  He knew he had at least two broken ribs and his arm was refusing to co-operate.  The warm blood against the cold snow indicated to him that he was losing a lot of blood and quickly.  He knew that he had to move.

That was easier said than done.  Despite his brain shouting at him to get up and move his body wasn’t listening.  He could do nothing but lie there in the snow and slowly freeze.  Time meant nothing any longer as the minutes stretched out, feeling like hours.  He welcomed the numbness that accompanied the unconsciousness that descended upon him.  It was easier than feeling the pain.

“Mon Dieu,” a voice permeated the darkness.  He thought he recognised the voice but he was too tired to figure out who it was.  He just wanted to sleep.  “What has happened to you d’Artagnan?”

He couldn’t respond.  He didn’t have the energy to.  Everywhere hurt so much he just wanted to pain to go away.  He let out a small cry of pain as he felt the familiar man hoist him up and hold him securely in his arms.  He had thought that it was impossible to feel any more pain than he was already in.  He was wrong.

“I’m sorry,” the voice apologised.  “I will try to be gentle.”

D’Artagnan felt himself being carried through the streets, the voice keeping him from succumbing to the darkness.  He wasn’t sure if he was grateful for that or not.  “Please,” he managed to gasp, not even sure what he was pleading for, the pain to stop or to be left alone.

“It’s all right, you are safe now.  No-one’s going to hurt you,” the voice was comforting and for a moment, in his haze, d’Artagnan actually believed it. 

“Help,” he whispered softly as he felt the sweet pull of unconsciousness take hold and he fell into a blissful oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

“He’s not in good shape, I fear he may need someone more qualified than I,” Aramis gravely told Athos and Porthos as he gently checked d’Artagnan’s broken body.  “What happened?”  He asked Athos, his forehead creased with worry.

“I’m not completely sure.  He was attacked, that much is certain, but by whom I do not know.”

“Where did you find him?”

“In an alley not far from the tavern we were drinking in last night.  It looks like his assailants followed him from there.  How is he?”

“He has a couple of broken ribs, his arm is broken too but he also has a head injury which is the most concerning as is the blood loss.  I’m surprised he’s still alive.”

“He’s strong,” Athos replied.  “He’ll survive.”

“Not without a doctor,” Aramis sighed.  “I can stitch up the cuts and bind his arm but he needs more help than I can give.”

“I’ll go,” Porthos said, breaking the silence he had kept since he’d arrived.  “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he said as he headed towards the door, leaving Athos and Aramis with the unconscious d’Artagnan.

He looked almost peaceful.  It would have been a sweet sight had he not been so badly injured.  His face was covered in quickly appearing bruises and his hair was matted with the blood that had been pouring from the wound on his head.  Athos turned to Aramis.

“We need to find out what happened, who did this.”

“I could kill them for hurting d’Artagnan like this.”

“You’re not the only one,” Athos replied.  “He did nothing to deserve this.  I am going to have a look around and see if I can find out who was responsible.”

“I’ll send Porthos to help once he returns,” Aramis said and Athos nodded in agreement.  “I’ll stay and keep watch over our young friend.”

Athos paused for a moment to look at d’Artagnan.  He reached out and ran his fingers through the younger man’s dark hair.  D’Artagnan didn’t move.  “Don’t worry, everything will be fine,” he reassured the unconscious man with a resolve even he wasn’t sure he meant.

Aramis was left alone as he tried his best to make d’Artagnan as comfortable as possible as he worked on stitching the cuts that littered the young man’s body.  He was really in dire straits.  There wasn’t one part of his body that wasn’t covered in either cuts bleeding profusely or bruises.  Everywhere he looked he saw new injuries to tend to.  He hoped Porthos returned with the doctor quickly.

-x-

D’Artagnan’s blood still coated the snow when Athos returned to the alley where he had been attacked making his stomach leap.  He felt sick.  There was so much of it.  He hadn’t noticed before, he had been too concerned with carrying d’Artagnan to safety that he had failed to realise just how bad it had been.  The blood brought it home to him that d’Artagnan could have actually died out there.  If he had been a few minutes later or if he had stayed in the tavern then his friend would have died and no-one would have helped him.  He felt his stomach leap again.

Athos bent down and it took all of his strength just to look at the blood covered snow but he needed to look for clues.  The alley was a mess of footprints, he couldn’t tell how many men there were but he knew that it had to be several to overpower the younger man.  D’Artagnan could have easily bested one or two men in a fight, possibly even three so he must have been considerably outnumbered.  Not able to find any clues at the scene of the attack Athos decided the next best course of action was to go back to the tavern.

“Aramis said you might need some help lookin’ for whoever attacked d’Artagnan,” Porthos said as he met Athos outside the tavern.  “An’ God knows I’m lookin’ for a fight.”

“There were no clues where he was attacked as to who the perpetrators were, I thought here might yield more results,” Athos tried to keep his voice level but it was hard not to let the anger he felt show.  He wanted to kill these men just as much as Porthos did.

Porthos pushed the door to the tavern open and he and Athos entered.  It was quiet with just a few customers spread out over the space of the room, the bartender stood at the edge of the bar watching over his custom.  He immediately tensed up when he saw the two Musketeers enter which neither of them failed to notice.  He knew something.

Athos and Porthos walked up to the bartender who tried to flee.  He didn’t get very far as Porthos grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him hard against the bar.

“Goin’ somewhere?”  He growled.

“No… not at all,” the man stammered.  “Wha… wha… what can I do for you gentlemen?”

“We were just looking for some information,” Athos said calmly.  “Can you help us with that?”

“What information?”

“You see,” Porthos spoke next.  “A very good friend of ours was attacked last night an’ we wanna know what happened.”

“I do… don’t know anything about that.”

“From the way you reacted when we came in I think you do know what happened.  I think you were involved somehow.”

“I wasn’t, I swear.”

“Aww ain’t he cute coverin’ for ‘is friends like that?  Why don’t you try again with the truth this time?”  Porthos shoved him harder and he cried out in pain.

“I wasn’t involved, I swear.  I overheard some men last night.  They were talking about how your friend got a little bit too overfamiliar with one of their wives and they were going to make him pay.  I didn’t do anything, please don’t hurt me,” he begged.

Porthos let him go and with a threatening note in his voice he said, “now tell me who it was you overheard.”


	3. Chapter 3

D’Artagnan hadn’t stirred since Athos had brought him to Aramis’ rooms and it was beginning to concern Aramis.  Porthos had brought a doctor before leaving to help Athos and the doctor took one look at the younger man and shook his head.  He had helped clean and bind his wounds but he didn’t even think d’Artagnan would last the night so Aramis had abruptly dismissed him, determined to look after his younger brother himself.  He couldn’t, no wouldn’t, believe that d’Artagnan would die.

He looked so small lying in the bed.  Aramis wasn’t used to seeing him so still, the young man was always so full of energy, always on the move and it scared him to see d’Artagnan so still.  Sitting down on a chair next to the bed, Aramis took hold of the cross he always kept around his neck and quietly prayed for d’Artagnan’s survival.

The door opened and Aramis looked up to see Athos and Porthos enter.  “No change,” he replied to their unanswered question.  “The doctor believes that there is not much that can be done.  We just have to wait.  How goes the search?”

“We found out who did it,” Porthos replied as he leaned against the table.  “A big case of mistaken identity nearly got our boy killed.”

“We can’t let that go.”

“No, but d’Artagnan comes first,” Athos replied.  “We don’t do anything until he wakes.”

“They could be anywhere by then.  They could be anywhere now.

“No, they don’t know that we know who they are.  They think they have got away with it so they have no reason to flee.”

“The bartender could tell them,” Porthos replied.

“The way you scared him I don’t think so.  Look,” Athos said as he took a step towards Porthos.  “I want to get to them as much as you do but we shouldn’t rush into this.  We need a plan.”

“Beating the hell out of them ain’t a plan?”

Athos smiled slightly.  “I understand but d’Artagnan needs a lot of care right now.  We need to make sure he’s all right before we go rushing in to any sort of revenge scenario.”

Porthos sighed, “all right, all right.  We stay here for now and once d’Artagnan wakes up we will go after them.”

“Agreed,” Aramis said from his seat.  “I for one cannot wait to get my hands on them.”

-x-

It was another two days before d’Artagnan stirred.  It was late into the night and Athos was keeping watch over the younger man when he heard him moan in pain.  Athos was immediately by his side.

“D’Artagnan, can you hear me?”

He replied with a small moan.  The pain was immense, almost too much for him to handle.  He felt like his body was on fire.  He wanted to retreat back into the comfort of oblivion because waking was too painful to bear. 

D’Artagnan could hear a voice, the same voice from that night.  His saviour.  He wanted to open his eyes and see who it was, he recognised the voice but he felt as though it was from a dream and he was just so tired.  It took all his strength just to open his eyes and look at the man who had rescued him from the street.  It was Athos.

“Ath…” he managed to say, his voice quiet and slurred.

“How are you feeling?”  Athos asked but d’Artagnan couldn’t quite understand what he was saying.  Everything felt jumbled, like he was in slow motion.

“Hurrrsss.”

“You’re going to be all right.  Aramis has been taking good care of you but you need to wake up properly now because we’ve all been worried.”

D’Artagnan couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer and he gave back into the pull of sleep.  It felt like heaven.

The next time he returned to consciousness he was more aware of what was happening around him.  He could tell it was dark and that the room he was in was lit by candles.  He could hear three voices speaking in low tones.

“Ath… os…,” he groaned and the three men were by his side within seconds.

“D’Artagnan,” Aramis smiled.  “Nice to see those big brown eyes again.”

“Thirsty,” he managed to say and a moment later he felt the wonderful relief of cold water trickle down his throat.

“How are you feeling?”  Aramis asked as he quickly checked over the younger man’s injuries.

“Ev’rywhere hurrsss,” he slurred.

“That is to be expected, you were very badly beaten.”

“How long…?”

“Since you were attacked?  A week.  You woke up five days ago for a few minutes but you’ve been sleeping since then.  We’ve been very worried about you.”

“’m tired,” he sighed.

“Then rest,” Athos told him.  “We will be here when you next wake up.”

“Don’ wan’ to.  Wanna stay awake.”

“You need to rest.”

“Tired of resting,” d’Artagnan said but a moment later he was asleep again.

“I think our young friend is on the mend,” Athos said wryly.

“It would seem so,” Aramis replied.  “He is more hard headed than any doctor would think.  How could we think that a little bang on the head would be enough to stop our young friend here?  He seems to be completely invincible.”

“Good,” Porthos said.  “Now with D’Artagnan on the mend we have something else to deal with, namely the men that did this in the first place.”

“I suggest we deal with them promptly,” Aramis replied.  “D’Artagnan is going to need a lot of recovery and we should be by his side.”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on them the last few days, they won’t be hard to find,” Athos told them.  “They’ll be at the tavern later tonight, we could meet them there.”

“Agreed,” Aramis said as he moved from d’Artagnan’s side and grabbed his gun from the table.  Athos and Porthos followed suit.  “He should be all right for a few hours, I don’t think he will wake while we are gone.”

“Let’s be as quick as we can just to be safe.  I do not want to leave him on his own for long,” Athos replied.

“Somehow,” Porthos said, “I don’t think it will.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Retribution will happen in the next chapter. Thanks for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on this chapter, been working the last few nights.
> 
> I got a review from issa who asked if the mistaken identity meant it should have been Aramis that was beaten. I hadn't considered that but I liked the idea so I'm going with it. Thanks for the inspiration :).

Albert Charpentier was just an ordinary man.  A very ordinary man with a very short temper.  That is why when he heard that his wife had been seen in the company of a Musketeer he immediately saw red and vowed revenge on the man.  He had recruited several of his friends and they had tracked down the Musketeer in question before almost beating the life out of him.  It had been over and done with in less than ten minutes and now he was feeling very satisfied with himself.

It had felt good, teaching the man a lesson, and if it meant that his wife was less likely to stray in future then all the better.  He hadn’t counted on the Musketeer’s friends finding him.

“Monsieur Charpentier,” he heard a voice come from behind him. 

“Yes,” he said and turned before finding a fist meeting his face.  Hard.  He fell to the ground only to find himself being picked up and roughly shoved against the wall.  “What’s going on?”  He asked.

“We have come to pay you a visit Monsieur,” Athos said laconically as Porthos tightened his grip on the man’s shirt.  “In regards to an incident with a friend of ours.”

“I don’t know any of your friends, let me go.”

“I think you’re lying,” Porthis hissed and shoved him harder.  “You see, we have a very badly beaten up friend an’ a bar tender pointed us in your direction.  Now, why would he do tha’ if you weren’ the man in question?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“D’Artaganan.  You and your cowardly little friends beat him almost to death and now we are here to return the favour.”

“Please, please don’t hurt me,” he begged.  “I’m sorry.”

“I think we can take that as a confession,” Aramis said.

“I think so too,” Porthos replied as he threw Charpentier to the ground.  The man was quickly surrounded by the three Musketeers.  Porthos knelt on the ground, grabbed Charpentier by the hair and whispered in his ear, “we’re gonna make you sorry you were ever born.”

-x-

Madame Charpentier heard her husband’s screams as she opened the door.  She let out a gasp as she saw him on the ground, beaten and bloodied and she immediately knew that it was all her fault.

“Stop!”  She cried as she pulled one of the men away from her husband.  “Please stop hurting him.”  She knelt down next to her husband.  “He’s done nothing.”

“He hurt our friend,” Porthos replied.  “He deserves every injury.”

“He was just protecting my honour.”

“Then maybe he should’a done it by not beating up an innocent man.”

“He slept with my wife, he deserved it,” Charpentier gasped.

“Albert, I do not know who you have beaten but it cannot be the man you saw me with because he is here.”

“You what?”  Porthos exclaimed as he followed Madame Charpentier’s gaze over to Aramis.  He sighed.  “I should’a known.  Doesn’t change the fact that your ‘usband hurt our friend.”

“Please, you’ve had your revenge, don’t hurt my husband anymore.”

“I think that Madame Charpentier is right,” Athos said, his steely and angry gaze never leaving Aramis.  “We should return to d’Artagnan and make sure he is all right.”

Aramis and Porthos followed Athos out of the house as he walked down the street in silence.  Eventually he stopped.

“I didn’t know,” Aramis started and he was greeted by Athos’ death glare.  “I didn’t know who he was I swear.  I didn’t even know she was married never mind think that…”

“That’s the problem,” Athos interrupted.  “You never think.  You never consider what the consequences of your actions will be,” Aramis knew that he was referencing his affair with the Queen.  “You just merrily go about without any regard of what might happen.  D’Artagnan could have been killed because of what you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

Athos sighed.  “Just be relieved that he didn’t.  Come on, we have to get back to him.”


	5. Chapter 5

D’Artagnan groaned as he came back to consciousness.  Everywhere hurt and it was taking him all of his energy just to stay awake but he was determined not to go back to sleep.  He had been out for far too long and now all he wanted to do was stay awake and talk to his brothers about what had happened over the last week.  He was sick of being out of commission.

Speaking of brothers, he thought, where were they?  He tried to sit up but a sharp pain in his side stopped him.  He looked around in the dim candle light but it was obvious that he was alone in the room.  He began to panic.  He didn’t want to be alone.  He was alone when he had been attacked.  His attackers could come back and there’d be no-one there to help him.  His breath started coming in short bursts as he felt the panic attack take hold.

The air between the Musketeers had remained tense the entire walk home.  Athos was pointedly ignoring Aramis and Porthos was stuck in the middle wondering what else was going on.  He could tell that there was something deeper to their argument but he did not know what so they walked back in a stony silence.

As Athos opened the door all thoughts of Aramis disappeared when he saw d’Artagnan lying on the bed unable to breathe.  All three men rushed over to his side.

“D’Artagnan, are you all right?”  Athos asked but d’Artagnan couldn’t answer him.  “It’s all right,” he said as he help his friend sit up slightly and held him as Aramis checked him over.

“D’Artagnan, look at me, you need to breathe.”

“Ca… ca… can’t,” he gasped.

“Yes you can, now listen to me.”

With Aramis’ help d’Artagnan managed to slow his breathing and eventually he managed to calm down.  Athos held him up the entire time and he eventually felt the younger man begin to fall asleep in his arms.  Once he was sure that d’Artagnan wouldn’t wake up he gently rested him back down onto the pillow and turned to Aramis.

“This isn’t over,” he told Aramis in a low voice.  “You have to tell him what you did.  He has to know the truth and that it was not even his fault in the first place.”

“When he is feeling better.”

“When he wakes up.”

“He is very gravely injured, telling him now might make things worse.”

“He needs to know.”

“Look, Athos,” Porthos interjected, “I know you’re mad right now but don’tcha think Aramis is right?  It could do more harm than good to d’Artagnan tellin’ ‘im when he’s this sick.”

“All right,” Athos sighed in agreement.  “But he has to know.”

“And I will tell him when the time is right.  I promise.”

Athos ran his hand through his hair.  He was extremely angry with Aramis.  He could usually forgive his friend anything, in fact he had in regards to Aramis’ liaison with the Queen, but Aramis’ indiscretion had led to d’Artagnan being hurt badly.  This was going to take a while for Athos to forgive his friend.

“Stay away from him until you are ready to speak with him,” Athos told Aramis coldly.  “You can tend to his injury but otherwise stay away.”

“As you wish,” Aramis replied dejectedly.  “I will find somewhere else to stay until d’Artagnan is ready to move,” he said as he headed to the door.  He exited and Porthos followed.

“I’ll keep ‘im right,” he said and Athos nodded.

“Thank you,” he replied, grateful that Porthos was there to keep the peace.  He was angry with Aramis but he did not want any harm to come to his friend.  At least with Pothos with him he would have some sort of protection should things turn bad.

Athos felt guilty for how he was treating his brother but he felt that there was no other way to show how much he disapproved of what Aramis had done.  He felt that Aramis had to know that there would be consequences to his actions.  He just hoped that d’Artagnan wold be able to forgive Aramis for his indiscretion.

He sat next to the bed for hours without moving until d’Artagnan stirred again.  He leaned over and touched the younger man’s hand, squeezing it gently as he woke up.

“’Thos,” d’Artagnan gave him a weak smile.  “You were gone.  I was alone and scared,” his voice was quiet, Athos could barely make out the words.  He returned the smile.

“We had some business to attend to but don’t worry, we won’t leave you again.”

“Thought they would come back.  Don’t want to hurt anymore.”

“They won’t be coming back.  We made sure that they wouldn’t hurt you again.  They know they attacked the wrong man, it was all a big mistake.  You are not to blame for any of this.”

“Why did they do this?”  D’Artagnan asked, his voice shaking slightly as his eyes filled with tears.

“They mistook you for another man.  He had relations with the leader’s wife and they decided that the best way to get revenge was to beat the man responsible.  They knew he was a Musketeer and when they saw you they assumed it was you.”

“Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter right now.”

“I want to know.”

“And you will in time but you need to rest now.  You need to regain your strength before you do anything,” Athos felt even worse lying to d’Artagnan but he had promised Aramis that they would wait until the younger man was stronger before they told him the truth.

“Where’s ‘Mis and Porthos?”  D’Artagnan dropped the subject, much to Athos’ relief and asked where his other friends were.

“They are getting some rest,” Athos lied.  He didn’t know where they had gone once he had sent Aramis away.  “You’ve kept us all up a lot recently.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t be, mon frère, we would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you get better it is no hardship.”

“Will you stay?  All of you?”

“We will stay until you no longer need us.”

“Then never leave.”


	6. Chapter 6

D’Artagnan wondered where Aramis was.  Every time he woke he found Athos or Porthos sat by his bed looking after him and making sure he ate but Aramis was nowhere to be seen.  The others made excuses as to why he wasn’t there but now d’Artagnan was beginning to worry.  He wanted to see him.

“Athos,” he said one morning a few days after he had woken.  He was feeling so much stronger and now his injuries felt more like an inconvenience rather than anything life threatening.  “Where is Aramis?”

“He’s busy.”

“I want to see him.  I haven’t seen him since I woke up and I miss him.”

Athos hesitated.  He had told Aramis to stay away until d’Artagnan was strong enough to be told the truth about his injuries and he wasn’t sure that the younger man was strong enough.  “I can ask him to drop by.”

“These are his rooms, he must have to come back at some point.”

“You know Aramis, he can always find a bed for the night.”

“I want to see him.  You and Porthos have been great but he should be checking me over, he’s better at treating wounds than you.”

“All right, I will go and find him once Porthos arrives.  I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”

“Thank you Athos,” d’Artagnan smiled.

-x-

Aramis felt nervous.  From the moment Athos had sought him out and curtly told him that d’Artagnan was ready to see him he had felt his stomach turn over and over.  He knew this was going to be painful for both of them and he had been dreading the moment his friend would find out that he was beaten because of something Aramis had done.  How was d’Artagnan going to take it?  Would he be angry, would he understand or would he cut Aramis off completely?  It was bad enough that Athos was barely talking to him he didn’t know if he could take d’Artagnan’s silence as well.

“It’ll be fine,” Porthos reassured him as he entered the room.  “He’ll understand.”

“Thank you,” Aramis smiled at his friend and watched him leave.  He then took the seat next to the bed.  “You wanted to see me.”

“I haven’t seen you in days, I was worried,” d’Artagnan replied.

“I’ve been fine.”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” d’Artagnan cut to the chase.  “Why?”

Aramis sighed.  It was now or never.  He had to tell him.  “It is my fault that you were beaten.”

“What?” D’Artagnan replied in disbelief.  “How is your fault?”

“The men who beat you did so because one of them saw his wife with a Musketeer.  I was that Musketeer.  I slept with his wife and he went out to attack me but I think he mistook us and he attacked you instead.”

D’Artagnan stared at Aramis like he had just shot him in the heart.  “I can’t believe it.  They were trying to hurt you?”

“I am so sorry,” Aramis apologised.  “I never meant for this to happen.”

“I don’t know what to say.  They nearly killed me.  I thought I was going to die and it was because of something you did,” d’Artagnan was struggling to get his head around what Aramis had just told him.  “Do Athos and Porthos know?”

Aramis nodded, “Athos told me to stay away until you were well enough to be told the truth.  He doesn’t agree with my relations.”

“I think I have to agree with him on this one,” d’Artagnan replied on the verge of panicking.  “I need time,” he said.  “I need some space so that I can think about this.  I don’t know what to do.”

“I understand,” Aramis said.  “I will give you as much time as you need.”

“Can you get Athos or Porthos?  I don’t think I should stay here anymore.  I need to go back to my own room so I can think.  I just need to think.”

“I will find someone to help you,” Aramis said sadly as he stood up.  “I never meant for any of this to happen.  I can only hope that you will be able to forgive me.”

D’Artagnan looked him in the eye.  “I know you didn’t mean it and I will forgive you.  You are one of my best friend, my brother, how could I not?”  He gave his friend a shaky smile.  “I just need a little bit of time to sort everything out in my head.  Just give me a few days.”

“I will give you all the time you need.”

“Athos will forgive you too.  He’s just mad because it was me that was hurt.  He’s scared and a little bit too overprotective.  You just need to give him time too.”

“I hope you’re right, Athos is terrifying when you get on the wrong side of him,” d’Artagnan laughed, already starting to feel a little better.  “Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t,” d’Artagnan promised.

“Just let me know when you are all right with me being here and I’ll be straight over.”

“I will.  Aramis,” d’Artagnan said as a parting to his friend.  “It will be all right, I swear.”

“Shouldn’t it be me that is saying that?”

“I’m not the one who needs it right now, you need those words more than I do.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“I will be waiting for you.”

“Salut Aramis.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking maybe one or two more chapters just to wrap everything up and make sure everyone are all friends again.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the last chapter. I was going to post this as two but because of work it wouldn't have been up until the middle of next week so it's all one chapter.
> 
> Thanks for all the comments and kudos. Hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

“You have to forgive him,” d’Artagnan said to Athos as he struggled up from the bed.  Athos and Porthos had helped him move back to his own room three days prior and now he was thoroughly fed up with being confined.  He was getting up and nothing could stop him.

Except possibly his still aching ribs.  He sighed as he collapsed back onto the bed.

“Is that so?”  Athos said as he watched the younger man cautiously, ready to intervene if he felt d’Artagnan was pushing himself too hard.

“Yes.  I already have and I don’t want to have to choose between the two of you.  It was me that was hurt and I bear him no ill will so you can forgive him too.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“No, it isn’t.  I know you’re very overprotective of me but you don’t need to be angry at Aramis anymore.  He made a mistake and he’s paid for it.”

“He’s always making mistakes and he keeps on doing it.  This time you paid the price for those mistakes but some of them have an even higher price.”

“It doesn’t matter.  He’s our brother and we can forgive him anything.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Completely.  It doesn’t matter what he’s done I will forgive him and so will you.”

Athos sighed.  “You’re right,” he said eventually.  “I won’t stay angry with him but it doesn’t mean that I am going to approve of how he chooses to conduct his affairs.  Especially when people close get hurt.”

“Great,” d’Artagnan grinned.  “Now, help me up and we’ll go and forgive our friend.”

“Are you sure?  You are still unwell.”

“I’m fine as long as you help.  I need to get out of here, I’m going mad lying here all day.  Now, get over here and lend me your arm.”

-x-

Aramis had been in a lousy mood ever since d’Artagnan had left his rooms.  He couldn’t concentrate and he even began to wonder if Athos’ determination to drink away his problems was a sensible plan.  Only Porthos had kept him from going on a bender.

“They’ll come round an’ see yeh soon enough,” he reassured.  “They’re not mad at you really.”

“Feels that way.”

“D’Artagnan already said he was goin’ to forgive yeh and Athos will too once he realises that d’Artagnan is gettin’ better.”

“He’s really angry with me and he has a good right to be.  I nearly got d’Artagnan killed.”

“But he’s goin’ to be fine.”

“I don’t deserve his forgiveness.”

“Well yeh have it an’ ‘e’s not goin’ to withdraw it so you’d best accept it.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.  A moment later d’Artagnan hobbled through followed by Athos, whose face was completely unreadable.  Aramis felt his stomach lurch.

“How are yeh?”  Porthos asked d’Artagnan as he helped him sit down.

“I’m getting better,” the younger man replied.  “I’ll be completely back on my feet in no time.”

“That’s great.  I expect to see you back in trainin’ soon then.”

“As soon as Athos lets me.”  Porthos laughed.

“He’s like your mum.”

“Worse than my mum,” d’Artagnan grinned.  “I never thought anyone could look more disapproving at my bad choices than my mother but he manages it.”

“Better that then you hurting yourself more,” Athos replied coolly.  “None of us want you laid up longer than necessary.”

“I know.  I’m just bored.  I don’t like being out of commission like this.”

Aramis felt another pang of guilt shoot through him.  Despite Porthos and d’Artagnan telling him that they didn’t blame him it still hurt to know that he was the reason his friend had been injured.

“Athos,” d’Artagnan prompted, seeing the opportunity for him and Aramis to smooth things over.  “You have something you want to say to Aramis.”

Athos sat down at the table opposite Aramis and took a breath.  “I have been too harsh towards you these past few days and I wanted to apologise for treating you so harshly.”

“I deserved it,” Aramis replied.

“Nevertheless, you are my brother and I can forgive you for what happened.  Despite what I said I don’t hate you for how you choose to live your life nor am I going to blame you.”

“You had every right to be angry with me.”

“I was being overprotective of our young friend.  He’s a grown man and a Musketeer, he doesn’t need me to be so worried about him.”

“I don’t mind your worry,” d’Artagnan interjected.  “So long as it doesn’t interfere with our friendships.  You all mean more to me than you can ever know.  I don’t like to see anyone fighting.”

“And you mean the world to us,” Aramis told d’Artagnan.  “You are our little brother and we would never forgive ourselves if anything happened to you.  I will never let this happen again, I promise.”

“Then that’s settled,” Porthos grinned, slapping Aramis on the shoulder.  “Now who’s for a drink?”

“I don’t know if I’m quite up to going to a tavern just yet,” d’Artagnan replied.  “I don’t really like the crowds.”

“Then we’ll bring the drink here.  Just us four.”

“I’d like that.”

“Then it’s settled.  Aramis and me’ll go an’ get the wine.”

“Thank you,” d’Artagnan smiled as they headed out.  “You really are the best of friends.”

“Of course we are,” Porthos laughed.  “How could you ever doubt it?” 

They left d’Artagnan and Athos sitting at the table.  “Thank you as well for forgiving Aramis for me.”

“You were right,” Athos replied.  “I was more angry at the whole situation than I was with him.  It would be wrong to end an entire friendship over something so trivial.”

D’Artagnan smiled.  He was right, they really were the best friends a man could wish for.  They loved him, protected him, cared for him and had his back completely.  They had defended his honour over something that he hadn’t even done and confronted the man who had hurt him, how many people could say they had friends like that?

There was still one thing that weighed heavily on his mind.  Although Athos, Aramis and Porthos had sought out his attacker, he needed to confront him.  He needed to face him.  Until he did he would not feel completely safe.

-x-

D’Artagnan grew stronger with every passing day but he still felt afraid.  Despite the numerous assurances from his friends that he was not going to be attacked again he still felt scared.  He jumped at every little noise, wondered who was lurking in every shadow and he was sick and tired of it.  He needed closure.

It had taken some convincing but he eventually managed to pry this information he needed from his friends so once he felt strong enough he ventured out of his rooms and headed across Paris.

Monsieur Charpentier, d’Artagnan decided, was a very small and weak man.  He watched him from across the street from his home and he wondered how a man like him could ever have overpowered him.  Had it not been for Monsieur Charpentier’s friend’s d’Artagnan would have been able to fight him off with ease.  It made d’Artagnan feel sick to think that such a powerless man held such power over him.

D’Artagnan entered the house as silently as he could, taking a small bit of satisfaction at the fright Monsieur Charpentier received when he realised that he was there.

“Who are you?”  He asked, the fear evident in his voice.

“Don’t you know?  I would have thought you would be able to recognise the man you beat, it’s not something that leaves your mind quickly.”

“Mon Dieu,” he gasped.  “I am sorry.  It was not you, I should never have hurt you.”

“It’s a little bit late for that, isn’t it?  Over a month has passed and you are only now just apologising and only when I find you, how is that right?”

“Please forgive me.”

D’Artagnan sighed.  He wanted to tell the small man where to go but he knew that he needed to do this in order to be able to move on.  He couldn’t hate him forever. 

“I forgive you,” he said.  “I probably shouldn’t.  By rights I should hate you but I don’t want to.  I don’t want to think about you ever again after this meeting has ended and I can’t do that unless I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” he sighed.  “Thank you for forgiving me.  I can sleep easier now.”

“This isn’t about you.  I don’t care if you never sleep again.  This is about me and I cannot stop being afraid until I no longer think of you.  Besides,” he stopped speaking and punched Monsieur Charpentier hard in the face.  “I forgive you but that doesn’t mean I don’t want payback for what you did.  Now we are even.  If I ever see you again I will kill you.”

And then he left, lighter in spirit than he had been.  The weak man had no hold over him anymore, d’Artagnan no longer felt afraid. 

He was no longer frozen.  He was free.


End file.
